Keep Your Enemies Closer
by juxtaposed
Summary: When the ultimate loss happens, everything changes. Everyone changes. Harry and Ginny face an old friend and new enemy. Hermione visits an old acquaintance. HG, HrR. Rated for innuendo. On Hiatus.
1. The Prologuey TeaserStyle Beginning

**Keep Your Enemies Closer**

by **juxtaposed**

The battles keep getting bigger, the losses more profound. When the ultimate loss happens, everything changes. Everyone changes. Harry and Ginny now find themselves dealing with an old friend - and a new enemy. But how do you defend yourself against someone who knows everything about you? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. 

_also_

Hermione reminisces. Harry has mental arguments. Ginny just has issues. 

Disclaimer: _Standard disclaimer applies, blah blah blah; I don't own anything or anyone you recognize. Unless, of course, you recognize something or someone I do. No lawsuits or paperwork, please. _

Chapter One: The Prologue-y Teaser-Style Beginning to this Story.

The night air was cool across her face, and she closed her eyes as a gentle breeze wafted past her. It seemed to be an unusually silent night, but if she tried, she could hear snatches of life in the wind - stray animals seeking food; crickets chirping their odd little songs; the occasional rumble of engines as cars made their way down the empty streets; laughter and hushed conversations from the few people actually around. She sighed inwardly as she kept moving, strolling along the sidewalk trying to seem inconspicuous. She missed times like that, when she could just sit and talk and laugh and cry and just be with someone. It had been a long time since she had been able to.

Hermione Granger had not ever really been one for reminiscing, but on that cool summer night, she found herself thinking back to a few years ago, when she had last had heartwarming conversations with people whom she had cared about, and who had cared about her. It had been one of the most poignant and lovely moments in her young life. She was seventeen, she was the top student in school, she had wonderful friends and a loving boyfriend...it was truly some of the best years of her life. Well, except for the way-too-frequent confrontations with what had been the most-feared figure in the wizarding world. That was not so much fun. 

But things were different now. 

Now...she no longer feared Voldemort. It was funny, in a cruel and ironic way, that what Voldemort had thought would break her had ultimately turned out to be what made her realize he was nothing to be afraid of. In fact, to her, he was just nothing. He was all smoke and mirrors to her, a shell of a man hiding behind wickedness (and badly disguised reanimated corpses) to intimidate others. Sure, he was capable of some truly horrific things, but more often than not, he had lackeys carry them out. He simply didn't have the strength - or an actual body - to pull off the mass massacres he so loved, and instead saved his energy. He - rather cleverly, she grudgingly admitted to herself - only personally inflicted suffering onto his own loyal followers, to drum up fear and obedience. And out of lack of any choice, he also had to face his nemeses in person - or in spirit or mind, as the case had occasionally turned out to be.

More often than not, the most prominent among said nemeses had been one Harry Potter, deemed to be either the savior or downfall of the wizarding world. His fate had been to swing the balance, but to which way, no one knew. Sure, Harry fought evil, on the side of good, but was it really in his destiny to destroy the Dark Lord? Or would it be his destiny to have the Dark Lord destroy him? They had been locked in stalemates for eight years, the first seven of which was the duration of Harry's education. Then, in the eighth year, when he had left school, the biggest showdown yet had occurred. Hundreds were killed, even more were injured, yet even _more_ lives were ruined. And yet again, there was no clear winner. For Harry had triumphed over Voldemort, but not killed him in time.  And the crux of the matter was that he had to be dead before Harry could ever truly be the sole winner. It was tedious, and _really_ annoying, but that was the way the prophecy had read. Only one of them could survive. And well, between murderous force of evil and (for the most part) pure-hearted innocent, it wasn't really a tough choice.

Unless, of course, one was a Death Eater, also known as another one of mindless puritan sheep, the ubiquitous _prejudicio idiotus _species. Then, she supposed, it was more a matter of getting psychiatric help than anything else, really. Or, well, obliterating them. And since she figured it was easier to kill an evil wizard than it was to convince one to get therapy (especially with so few magical psychiatrists around)... 

Not that killing them was particularly easy, of course, but she was easily one of the most powerful forces of magick the wizarding world had had to reckon with for a long while. It was funny, again in a cruel and ironic way, that some of the most powerful wizards - and witch - in history, were all in the same era. It used to be an odd superstar, like Merlin. Now, there was Voldemort, Harry, Hermione, Dumbledore...

Dumbledore. Another one of Voldemort's greatest nemeses. Considered far and wide to be one of the most powerful wizards ever, with the wisdom (most of the time, anyhow), courage, oddly placed humor and suspiciously well-timed foreknowledge to boot, he was the one who had faced Voldemort and kept him at bay. It was said he was the only one Voldemort had ever truly been afraid of - until that terrible prophecy had come about, Harry had been born and not only thwarted him, but destroyed what was left of his physical self. Then Harry had become the focus. The one Voldemort really had to watch, and watch out for. And since Harry developed his magick, he was the only one Voldemort cared about. Dumbledore was just a player; Harry was the win. And so it had been, for eight years, the fated fight between good and evil dragged out. 

Who knew Hermione was a key to the game? 

She had always been a smart girl, sure. The smartest in all her classes, and always the first to get new spells done correctly. And while at first her academic success was mostly due to the infinite hours of study she clocked, slowly but surely her powers began to develop and grow, until it was simply natural for her to pick up on spells fast and perform them hitchlessly. Of course, she still studied as hard as ever, but she could always feel the difference, in the effort it took for her to cast any magick at all. It used to take laboured focus and intense concentration, but eventually all it took was the knowledge and her slightest will, and it was done. No one really spotted the difference, her teachers simply expected excellence from her. Her friends did too, and they knew of her odd love for studying. But she could always feel it. She was different, she was changing. No, not her, she mentally corrected herself. Her powers. They were building up inside her, just waiting for the day they would be released onto the world...

And then one day they had.

AN: _Reposting, because my formats were all screwed up. Review and let me know how this was, thanks! Cookies if you do. No, I'm not above bribery. _;)


	2. In Another Completely New and Different ...

**Keep Your Enemies Closer**

by **juxtaposed**

The battles keep getting bigger, the losses more profound. When the ultimate loss happens, everything changes. Everyone changes. Harry and Ginny now find themselves dealing with an old friend - and a new enemy. But how do you defend yourself against someone who knows everything about you? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. 

_also_

Hermione reminisces. Harry has mental arguments. Ginny just has issues. 

Disclaimer: _Standard disclaimer applies, blah blah blah; I don't own anything or anyone you recognize. Unless, of course, you recognize something or someone I do. No lawsuits or paperwork, please. _

Chapter Two: In Another Completely New and Different Setting

"Do you want beef or chicken?" 

A petite, and very pretty, raven-haired girl stood, hand on hip, peering into the depths of a large steel refrigerator. Her free hand came up to briefly rummage through its contents as she asked her question. Her forehead wrinkled up as she examined a box. 

"Why do we have way-past-the-expiration-date goat cheese?" she muttered in disgust. She tossed the offending box out over her shoulder, where it landed with a hearty _splat_ on the floor. Hearing the sound, she glanced down behind her. "Oops." She flicked her hand at it, and the box rose, teetering, into the air, before sailing into the nearby dustbin. All well and good, except for the little blobs of milky-green chunks dotting the floor. "Ugh. _Scourgify_." She waved her hand again, and the floor became spotless. "Much better," she said, nodding in satisfaction. She turned round and went back to prodding and poking the rest of the fridge's inhabitants, occasionally throwing out the odd bottle of flat Butterbeer or soggy biscuits, when she suddenly realized...

She had been talking to herself for the past five minutes.

Never a good sign, really, she thought to herself. Usually indicates insanity of sorts. Well, I guess talking to myself isn't that bad, as long as I don't listen or take myself too seriously. She giggled to herself as she noticed what she was actually thinking about talking to herself. Oh, laughing at _and_ with myself now. Most definitely not a good sign. She sighed as she realized her ever so random thoughts would just keep on going unless she focused on something else. Like, for example, the fact that she had been talking to herself for the past five minutes. She forced herself to focus. Right, getting back to the issue...she thought with a mental sigh.

She spun around sharply on her heel, and slammed the refrigerator door shut, effectively cutting of the loud _beep-beep _that was emitting from the fridge being left open for so long. "Harry?" she called out. "Did you hear me?"

No answer. 

"Harry?" she tried again. "Are you there?"

Silence. 

She felt her metaphoric hackles start to rise. Now, Virginia Weasley appreciated peace and quiet as much as the next teenage girl, but she absolutely _hated_ silence when it wasn't intentional. And this wasn't intentional. Slowly, she moved out of the kitchen, retrieving her wand from the top of the kitchen counter, and grasped onto it tightly. She was getting pretty good at wandless magic, but it gave her a better sense of security to hold on to her wand. Holding it out in an offensive stance, she slowly trod across the dining and living room, trying to find anything out of the ordinary. Like, for instance, a missing boy. Or more accurately, whatever had made said boy disappear. Especially when said boy was none other than the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter. Yes, anything that could make Harry disappear was most definitely not of the good, she decided. She was just about to head upstairs to continue with her investigation when a loud _crack! _sounded outside, and then a _knock_ at the front door. She whipped her head around, her glossy black hair flying in an arc over her shoulder, as she stood frozen for a moment. Then, ever so cautiously, she made her way to the door. She peered out of the peephole, and her eyes widened. Quickly, she unlocked the door and flung it open, letting the figure outside in.

"Harry!" She released a breath she hadn't even been aware she'd been holding. Then as a thought occurred to her, she furrowed her brow. "What are you doing out there?"

The boy in question blushed as he walked into the house. "I forgot my keys."

She shook her head, although a small smile tugged at her lips. "Very good, Harry. But I meant...I thought you were already in."

It was Harry's turn to shake his head. "No, I just got back. Didn't you hear me apparate?"

"I did. It scared the crap out of me." She scowled. "I was in the midst of hunting for you - or trouble - when I heard it. I was about to panic when you knocked. Then I realized dark wizards would probably just blast their way in rather than be polite and knock. What with their being evil and all, not caring for other people's property or privacy."

He chuckled. "Very logical and completely linear conclusion." Then, flashing her a winning smile, he continued. "Then again, what else would I expect from you, Gin?"

"Shut up," she laughed. "It _was_ logical and linear, thank you very much." 

"Sure, sure," he grinned, holding out a hand in a gesture of mock defeat, then resting it on her shoulder. At the contact, she looked up at him and he looked right back at her. They stood like that for a few seconds, then suddenly Harry cleared his throat, dropping his hand. "So, uh, besides hunting for things that lurk in the Weasley household, what have you been up to?"

Her body was humming, and warm tingles began to spread through her blood as her heart beat that much faster. But she kept her cool and shrugged as casually as she could manage. "Not too much, I just got back myself. I was going to make dinner for us."

He smiled. "Sounds good. Want some company?" he offered. 

She shook her head. "Nah, I can manage it myself."

"I'm aware of that. I didn't ask if you needed help, I asked if you wanted company." He said softly, moving slightly closer to her. Her eyes met his in an intense gaze, their second ever-slightly-so-awkward one in under a minute. Her heart was racing now, no question about it. And warm tingles were turning into hot flushes; she felt so buzzed she thought she'd spontaneously combust. But again, she kept her cool. 

Well, sort of. 

She licked her lips nervously. "I would."

AN: _Review, review, review, please? It gives me tingles. And I'll give you cookies_. :)


	3. From the Point of View of Another Main C...

**Keep Your Enemies Closer**

by **juxtaposed**

The battles keep getting bigger, the losses more profound. When the ultimate loss happens, everything changes. Everyone changes. Harry and Ginny now find themselves dealing with an old friend - and a new enemy. But how do you defend yourself against someone who knows everything about you? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

_also_

Hermione reminisces. Harry has mental arguments. Ginny just has issues.

Disclaimer: _Standard disclaimer applies, blah blah blah, I don't own anything or anyone you recognize. Unless, of course, you recognize something or someone I do. No lawsuits or paperwork, please. _

Chapter Three: From the Point of View of Another Main Character

He watched her wet her lips, and was suddenly overcome with the urge to do it for her. _What the -?_ he thought. _No. **No**. NO. I am **not **having less-than-pure and more-than-platonic inclinations towards her._

_Yeah, right. Even I know that's a lie. You like her. You have for the past two years. _

_Yes, I like Ginny - _

_Ha! I knew it! _

_- as a **friend**. She's like a sister to me! _

_A really hot sister. _

_Ew! _

_Kidding, kidding. But she** is** hot. _

_Yes, she's beautiful. But - _

_But, nothing. You have a thing for Ginny, admit it, Potter. _

_I do** not** - ugh! I'm not listening to you anymore! _

_Kind of tough, Potter, considering **I'm in your head**! _

_Shut up. _

_Oh, good comeback, how long it'd take you to come up with that one? Come on, Potter, you're making us both look bad here. I mean, I **am **you, after all. _

_Unfortunately. _

_I heard that. _

_Well, duh. _

_Like you said, in my head. _

_Heh heh. _

_What? _

_You're a poet, and you didn't - _

_Don't finish that, or I swear I'll hex you straight into hell. _

_Ooh, tough guy now, aren't we? _

_For God's sake, just shut. Up. _

_Well, alright, just this once. And only because dear Ginny is looking at you like you've grown an extra head. _

_I wish I had, then you could get in **that** one and leave me alone! _

_Or maybe there'd already be another me there, ever thought about that? _

_Stop it! I'm trying to talk to Ginny now._

He gave himself a mental glare as he - temporarily - stopped arguing with himself. Ginny was giving him a slightly odd look. He focused on her. _Yes, focusing on Ginny_. "So...what is it?" he asked, referring to the look she was giving him. _As if you don't already know_.

_Prat._

She smiled and shook her head. "Nothing. Just...you were kind of staring at me."

"Appreciating the view is all," he said, smiling widely, a note of cheekiness in his voice. She blushed, and he did, too, realizing what he'd said.

_Oh. My. God. You did **not **make me say that to her. _

_Well,** someone** has to do the work around here. _

_Ginny is **not** work! She's my friend! My best friend! And pretty much my only friend, which she might not be for much longer if you keep - _

_Oh, knock it off. You fancy the extremely-well-fitting pants off of her. Excuse **me** for trying to make some progress with her. _

_Well, her pants **are** rather...hang on a minute. Not the point. _

_Then what is? _

_The point **is**, mister smart-ass, that I do not...oh, god. Just stop making me do and say things that make everything awkward. _

_Oh, come off it. Really, I mean it. Its some great sexual tension I feel right now, you could probably excuse yourself for a few and - _

_Do **not** finish that sentence. I mean it._

"Oh." She bit her lip, her cheeks still crimson, and her eyes darted to the kitchen. "Well, we should probably..." Her voice held a note of regret. "I mean...you must be hungry."

_I'm hungry, alright. Hungry for **love**. _

_Will you please stop that? _

_Ugh, spoilsport. Look at her! _

_I'm looking. _

_Then you ought to notice that **she fancies the pants off of you too**! Speaking of which, its getting a little...pinchy. Try thinking of something less arousing, will you? _

_I'm not the one who's getting aroused! Its you, you keep eyeing Ginny like a piece of meat. _

_Except that, well, meat doesn't really do it for me. I'm strictly women - that's **human** women, mind you - only._

He cleared his throat. "Well, uh, yeah. Kind of, I guess. It's been a long day." He followed her into the kitchen. "So, what are we having?"

"Well, I was digging through the fridge for edibles and - did you know we had goat cheese?" she suddenly asked. He blinked and made a face.

"Goat cheese?" he repeated.

"Yeah. Weird, huh? But it was there...and kind of expired."

"Expired?" he repeated. Again. _Oh, good, Potter. Wonderful grasp of vocabulary. **A** plus_.

"Well, kind of an understatement. It was green." Ginny grimaced.

"Its not supposed to be green."

"And blue."

"Not supposed to be blue either."

"And -"

"There can be no possible good of me knowing all this." He cut her off.

She giggled, a sound that made his heart stop for a moment. _Wait, did I just -_

_What have I been** trying** to tell you all this time? Honestly, I swear. You've got a skull thicker than the Forbidden Forest. _

_It's the same as yours, remember. _

_Hey, no pawning off insults to **me**. I'm the one who actually** realized** you - me - **we** had feelings for Ginny. _

_No I don't. _

_You still haven't noticed? What is **wrong **with you, man? _

_There is nothing wrong with me. _

_You're having mental arguments with yourself. _

_Well, at least its only mental. _

_No its not. If Ginny weren't around you'd be yelling out loud at me. _

_I would - _

_An hour ago, when you were leaving the Ministry. You told me to toss off, nearly scared off an old woman. _

_Yes, well, I...fine. **Shh**._

"Well, if you lost your appetite, I wouldn't have to cook you dinner." She said mischievously. He laughed.

"Yeah, right. I'm a nineteen-year-old guy who's seen mass murder and destruction. Kind of hard to make me lose my appetite over moldy cheese."

"What if I told you -?" Ginny was effectively cut off by the hand he placed over her mouth. Tingles shot up his spine from his skin on her lips. _Oh, **no, I'm** not in love with her_.

_I'm not. _

_Yeah right. _

_I'm **not**. _

_Then why are you practically weak in the knees from just touching her? _

_Well, I...shh! _

_Oh, for God's sake. Kiss her already. _

_What? No! _

_Just do. Kiss her. _

_No._

In spite of himself, he found himself leaning forward. _No!_ He could feel her shivering slightly, and it was definitely not from cold or fear. He held her gaze as he brought his face to about six inches away from hers, sliding his hand from her mouth to cradle her cheek. "Kind of hard," he murmured softly. _Oh, I'll just bet you are_.

_You're a pervert._

Meanwhile, she seemed to have thought of the same innuendo, and a renewed blush reddened her cheeks. "Um..."

Oh, God.

But he kept his cool. "To make me lose my appetite?" he reminded her. She blushed even brighter. _Ooh, someone's had naughty thoughts_. He couldn't help smirking. "Why, whatever were you thinking of, Gin?" She didn't reply, and her cheeks kept turning redder, spreading to the tips of her ears. He leaned in a little bit closer, inhaling her scent of strawberries and cream. "Let's eat, shall we?"

_Yes, eat her. _

_Get out of my head. _

_You want to, admit it. _

_I said get out. _

_Denial aint just a river in Egypt, pal. _

_Shut up and leave me alone. _

_You want her. _

_Get lost. _

_You do..._

Harry Potter was truly beginning to believe he was going stark raving mad.

* * *

AN: _Okay, this chapter has been reformatted for easier reading. Hope it helped! And, dont be shy about leaving me a review - hint, hint. Also, the "hungry for love" line is accredited to my best friend who never gets sick of using that line on poor, defenseless girls._


	4. What Led Us Here Anyway, aka Dwelling On...

**Keep Your Enemies Closer**

by **juxtaposed**

The battles keep getting bigger, the losses more profound. When the ultimate loss happens, everything changes. Everyone changes. Harry and Ginny now find themselves dealing with an old friend - and a new enemy. But how do you defend yourself against someone who knows everything about you? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. 

_also_

Hermione reminisces. Harry has mental arguments. Ginny just has issues. 

Disclaimer: _Standard disclaimer applies, blah blah blah; I don't own anything or anyone you recognize. Unless, of course, you recognize something or someone I do. No lawsuits or paperwork, please. _

Chapter Four: What Led Us Here Anyway, aka Dwelling On The Past

Hermione had reached her destination, a small patch of forestry, or more accurately, overgrown weeds and shrubbery. Moonlight streamed down, filtered by the leaves and branches to create the dimmest of illumination on the twig-and-mulch-infested ground. She walked into the growth, and it seemed to grow darker with each step she took. She frowned, then, looking around her quickly to ensure she was indeed alone out in the middle of nowhere, the outskirts of an old suburban English town, waved her hand, creating a brilliant flash that briefly lit the whole area in a flood of white light, before submerging her back into pitch black darkness. 

Then, out of thin air, a small glow slowly materialized, hovering in front of her. She murmured a few words to it, and it began to twitch, then dip and ebb in the air, before slowly floating off to a few feet in front of her to her left, where it simply hovered again. She stepped towards it, and no sooner than she had, it moved again, drifting a few more feet. Apparently she was to follow it, then. Right. Then follow it she would. She moved towards it again, and again it floated off, and so it continued like that for a long stretch. She was soon used to taking a couple of steps then pausing to see the direction the little glowlight moved in, then taking a couple more steps, and so on. She had to occasionally swat a overhanging branch out of the way, but the glow seemed to be leading her on a path that was pretty much unobstacled. She was thankful for that, the little glowing ember floating in front of her wasn't bright enough to illuminate her surroundings, and she had more than enough on her mind to have to struggle and fumble her way through undergrowth. 

And as for what was on her mind that kept her so preoccupied? Well, it was really a number of things, but in the foreground, who else but a certain mister Ronald Weasley.

Hermione was madly in love with him. She had been, for several years, very possibly, she admitted, since she had met him. Except that he had been a prat to her, and he and Harry hadn't thought much of her for being so studious and rule-abiding. So, foolishly besotted girl that she was, what had she done? She had gone and broken the rules to help them when they were in trouble. And so it had begun from then on, her friendship with the ever-so-famous Boy-Who-Lived and his best friend, the awkwardly charming Ron. There were times, of course - many, in fact - that she mildly regretted ever becoming the third member of their inseparable trio, because if she hadn't, who knows what she might be doing right now? Probably not trekking through an untamed forest, that was for sure. And she probably wouldn't have had her life in jeopardy _quite_ so often. And she _probably _wouldn't have been through so many horrific experiences. But all in all, she knew that she wouldn't have changed a thing. Because, really, if she hadn't become best friends with Harry and Ron, she wouldn't be the girl she was today.

Of course, the girl she was today wasnt really what everyone had expected from her, but then, certain events had the tendency to do strange things to you. Like, well, death for instance. Not her own, but people who mattered to her, people she was close to, people she cared about. She had witnessed so many losses, watched so many deaths. At first, she would just be somewhat sorry about the loss of an innocent. Then, when Voldemort got closer to his target, she would grieve over the loss of a friend. And then another, and another. One of the worst things was when he started to kill families. Families of people she knew. Families she knew. Then, eventually, Voldemort had killed her own family. 

It had been then, that she had first begun to really hate Voldemort, and her hatred and anger and grief had manifested in some truly spectacular magick. She remembered hearing the news, it was a few months into seventh year, and she, Harry, Ron and Ginny were laughing at something that Luna had said to Professor Snape about purple tree-seal puppies in Uzbekistan and his hair. Professor Dumbledore had received an owl in the middle of lunch, something that wasn't highly unusual, really. But what was, was that he had looked to Professor McGonagall, and, with the slightest of nods, they both stood up, heavily. Ginny had been doing a dead-on impression of Professor Snape - "Miss Lovegood, I appreciate your concern for my hair, but I assure you, I do not use shampoo culled from the earwax of these nonexistent creatures" - when Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall had made their way over. They had all looked up to see the ever-present twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes missing, and McGonagall's already thin lips pressed into oblivion. 

"Miss Granger, if you would be so kind as to follow us to my office, please," Dumbledore had stated quietly. Hermione's heart had begun to sink, and as she stole a look around her, she noticed everyone at the table was looking at her with varying degrees of fear and pity. But she had simply nodded, stood up and followed the two Professors out. She was led to Dumbledore's office, offered a seat, which she accepted, as well as tea and a sweet, which she declined. 

Then McGonagall had cleared her throat lightly. "I'm afraid, my dear, that we have some very bad news," she had said gently. Hermione had looked up to see the pained look in her teacher's eyes, and her heart seemed to be both in her throat and down the pits of her stomach.

"W-what is it?" Hermione had stammered out.

"It seems that...well, it seems that Voldemort has launched an attack...on your family." 

Hermione's mind had gone blank at Dumbledore's statement. But somehow she had managed to get out a few words. "Are they...did he..."

The look on their faces was answer enough, and Hermione didn't respond when McGonagall had placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, my dear." Hermione had been quiet for a good long minute, and Dumbledore spoke up.

"I, too, offer my condolences. Of course, we will understand if you wish to return home for any...arrangements, and will help provide some security for your travel. And you are excused from all classes until you see fit to return." Hermione remained silent, and he cleared his throat. "Ah...Miss Granger?"

"When?" She snapped her head up and looked at him, as she asked her question with a considerable amount of force. "When did this happen?"

"I've just received news of this. I believe it happened just under an hour ago." He had replied, sharing a concerned look with McGonagall. "Miss Granger, if you would like Professor McGonagall to accompany you back to your room -"

Hermione had appeared not to hear him, as she stood up abruptly, her jaw set firm. "Thank you, Professors," was all she said, rather coolly, before she left his office, leaving the two professors' expressions to change from concern to worry. She had then stalked back to the dining hall, where she had burst through the doors forcibly, and over to her friends. The entire hall was watching as she looked at Harry.

"I need your cloak."

"What's the matter?" Ron had asked gently, reaching out to hold her hand, as Harry blinked at her in surprise.

"My cloak?"

"I need it. Now." Magick had burned the air when she spoke those words. Everyone could feel the raw power radiating from her, driven and fueled by her anger and grief. Harry seemed taken aback, and momentarily hesitant. He had looked at her with a question in his emerald eyes, and she had simply said, "He killed my parents." 

Gasps were heard all over the hall, and Ron and Ginny looked rather faint. Harry had met her eyes with a hard look, and she had, for a moment, expected him to refuse, but instead, he had nodded. "Sure. I'll get it for you." And just like that, he had stood up and walked to his dorm, with her behind him and Ron and Ginny behind her, sputtering protests as they figured out what she was planning to do.

"Hermione, you cant possibly be planning to -"

"He'll kill you too, if you -"

But she had ignored them.

Just then, the glowing light went out, but she was not left in darkness. Instead, she found herself in front of a rather impressive, if somewhat old-looking, mansion, staring straight at the person she had come all this way to see. He was standing on the porch of the house, and smiled at her as she approached him. 

"Hello, Hermione. Long time no see."

"Hello, Draco."

AN:_ I don't seem to be getting many reviews for this story. pouts Please remedy that? _


	5. An Attempt At Drawing Out Suspense

**Keep Your Enemies Closer**

by **juxtaposed**

The battles keep getting bigger, the losses more profound. When the ultimate loss happens, everything changes. Everyone changes. Harry and Ginny now find themselves dealing with an old friend - and a new enemy. But how do you defend yourself against someone who knows everything about you? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

_also_

Hermione reminisces. Harry has mental arguments. Ginny just has issues.

Disclaimer: _Standard disclaimer applies, blah blah blah; I don't own anything or anyone you recognize. Unless, of course, you recognize something or someone I do. No lawsuits or paperwork, please. _

Chapter Five: An Attempt At Drawing Out Suspense

She smiled at him as she took his offered hand, quickly taking in his appearance. He was tall, and slim, but well proportioned, and he dressed to flaunt it, with a well-cut shirt, trousers and sleek robes. All in black, of course, which only served to highlight his platinum locks, which framed and softened his angular face. "Well, you haven't changed a bit," she remarked dryly.

He chuckled. "I saw nothing wrong with how I looked before."

"And the arrogance is still there, obviously." She arched an eyebrow at him.

"Not _arrogance_, dear girl. Merely a great faith in my appearance." He smirked his trademark smirk at her, and she couldn't help smiling at him. "And, might I add, you haven't exactly been a whole new person since our last encounter."

"Ah, but I have," she reminded him. He acknowledged her comment with a nod. "It's cold out tonight, Draco, are you going to invite me in?"

"What, do you require permission, like a common vampire? Perhaps you _have_ changed more than I thought." He smirked again, even as he held the door open. She rolled her eyes at him playfully as she entered the mansion. He could be a little antagonistic at times, but she found him to be dry-witted and amusing at most others. And, considering all their history, she was glad for his company, and rather enjoyed their friendly bantering; it was vastly different from their relationship only three years ago.

Draco Malfoy had always been a prat. From the very first day they had met, on the train, and he had given her his renowned sneer, they had been fast foes. When she had befriended Harry and Ron, it had gotten worse. He felt threatened that she was not only better than him in all their studies, and she was a member of the "golden Trio", but that she was achieving all her success despite being - as he so often crudely put it - a "mudblood". It was a taunt that had lasted throughout Hogwarts, right up till their sixth year. That year, Draco's father had been sentenced to Azkaban, and the boy's entire demeanour had changed dramatically. Not that he was going around giving people Chocolate Frogs, but he was decidedly less acidic than in his previous years. And he and Harry, after a meeting with Dumbledore, had developed a certain sort of civility between them, which eventually extended to include Hermione, Ginny and Ron. It turned out that Draco was not really a fan of Voldemort, and had wished to offer a truce to Harry now that he did not have his father forcing him to serve the Dark Lord. And then, in later events, Draco and Harry had struck up something oddly - and with no waning degrees of surrealism - very much like camaraderie. Ron, in true form, trusted his best friend although he still held his reservations, Ginny just took everything at face value, and Hermione had, too, until the day her parents had been killed.

Ron and Ginny had pleaded with her to stop and think things through, to which she had fixed them with a cold glare and told them she had. When they realized they wouldn't get through to her, they started in on her "accomplice" - Harry. Harry had simply eyed her very intensely, then told the siblings to bugger off. Then he had grabbed his Invisibility Cloak and Marauder's Map and, without a word, left the dorm, Hermione right next to him. She remembered everything that had transpired that night. She had realized Harry had planned to go with her, and despite being acutely aware she was a complete and utter hypocrite, insisted he was not to follow.

Harry had stopped in his tracks, and met her gaze very coolly. "Then you're not going."

"Harry! That's not -"

"Hermione. You are not going alone to face Voldemort. You know you wont last five minutes." Harry had simply stated the facts, and gave her a look to suggest that she definitely could not disagree. She had simply glared daggers at him, and his tone softened. "Look, I understand, ok? Maybe you don't think I do, but I do. Trust me. I know what its like to lose someone."

"Then you'll let me -"

"Not alone. I know you're angry, and I can feel your power, but remember - I'm the only one who has a chance of killing him." And she had seen the set look on his face; she would not be able to dissuade him. So she had sighed and nodded.

"Fine. Let's go."

"Not without us, you're not." They had turned to see Ron and Ginny standing a few feet behind them. "Do you really think I'd let my two best friends walk right out of here to face a demented evil wizard without me, and miss out on all the fun?" Ron had said, a weak lopsided grin on his face.

"And do you think I'd let all of you go by yourselves, and have Mum kill me if anything happened?" Ginny had added wryly. "The least you could do is let me have some fun, or, well, die trying." Despite the heavy air that hung around them, they all chuckled. It ought to have been disturbing, the flippant way the four teenagers approached the thought of death, but they all knew that if they took it too seriously, they would never have lasted as long as they had. And with that, Hermione had given them a grim smile.

"You forget, you don't know where to find him." A cool, silky voice suddenly materialized. They had turned to see Draco appear from around the corner, on his fine features an unreadable expression. "You shouldn't be so hasty."

"I don't have time for this, Draco," Hermione said, rather snappishly.

"You shouldn't be so hasty," he had repeated, a gleam in his eye. She had simply growled and turned away, but Harry had caught the look in the blonde's eyes, and caught her arm.

"You know something, don't you, Draco?" Harry had stated curiously. Draco had simply smirked, and gave a barely perceptible tilt of his head.

"I wouldn't jump to conclusions, Harry. In fact, I wouldn't do very much at all, if I were you."

"What are you getting at?" Ron asked impatiently. "Stop speaking in riddles."

"But I speak _of_ a Riddle," Draco had simply replied, fixing them all with a very pointed look, especially Ginny, whose jaw had hardened. "And when one's emotions run high, one can expect certain hastiness to blind them. And I wouldn't simply give away the..._prize_ to this Riddle, so to speak." He and Harry had exchanged a look, and Harry nodded his understanding. "It would be advisable to take some time to think about this particular quandary before taking any action which might be foreseeable." And with that, Draco had turned away and walked off, leaving the four Gryffindors alone again.

"Well, he's off his nut," Ron had remarked. Harry shook his head.

"He knows what he's talking about." Harry had glanced at Hermione. "Do you?"

She had just stared in the direction the Slytherin had left. "Unfortunately."

Hermione took in her surroundings now - lavish but not flashy, opulent but not ostentatious. It was a beautiful, tastefully done up house, very much befitting the man before her, who, due to his considerable inheritance, was – for the lack of better words – filthy rich, and lived to reflect it, as scores of his ancestors had doubtless done. However, quite unlike his parents, who were often nothing short of gaudy, Draco knew exactly how to handle his wealth - never overdo it. He noticed her admiration, and raised an eyebrow at her.

"I trust my taste meets with your approval," he said. She turned to him, a smile on her lips, as he continued. "You see, I dress my house as finely as I dress myself."

"With pure unadulterated arrogance?" She couldn't resist taking a shot at him.

"Again with the arrogance. Its faith in my tastes, dear girl. Faith." Draco smirked at her knowingly. "However, I have a feeling that you did not ask to meet with me purely as a social call, and most certainly not to discuss my exquisite taste in aesthetics. Shall we move into the meeting room, for more...privacy?"

"Isn't the manor protected?" Hermione asked curiously.

"From the outside, yes. From within, no. You see, my dear, the walls do have ears, and should they be persuaded to speak it would not be very pretty to behold."

"I'm afraid, Draco, that all the time that you have spent alone is taking its toll on you, you're speaking with the clarity and directness of a madman."

He merely gave her that smirk of his as he led her into a charmed room - she could feel the magick, thick around her, as she entered. "I speak so as to give nothing away, Hermione," he said with all seriousness as soon as they were safe within the room. "You ought to know the danger of revealing any information unintentionally."

"And I do. I just think that, given I _am_ one of the dangers, that I don't need to worry quite so much." Hermione stated matter-of-factly.

He regarded her with a measure of amusement. "I'm aware of that, but I don't _quite_ have that privilege." After a pause, he added, dryly, "And you call _me_ arrogant."

"You _are_. But we aren't here to discuss that, as you pointed out earlier."

"Ah, yes. Then what, may I ask, _are_ we here to discuss?"

* * *

AN: Thanks to any reviewers, you make my day. :)

AN: A special note to **tiggieotoo**: I cant tell you what's happening…_yet_. All will be revealed in the coming chapters – eventually. :) Thanks for reviewing!

AN: I keep getting people telling me not to post under Harry/Hermione, because this isn't a ship for them, but my reasoning is that they _are_ the central characters, so I will keep it how it is, unless it's REALLY that big a deal to you people.


	6. Why Your Subconscious Should Only Be Fre...

Keep Your Enemies Closer 

by **juxtaposed**

The battles keep getting bigger, the losses more profound. When the ultimate loss happens, everything changes. Everyone changes. Harry and Ginny now find themselves dealing with an old friend - and a new enemy. But how do you defend yourself against someone who knows everything about you? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

_also_

Hermione reminisces. Harry has mental arguments. Ginny just has issues.

Disclaimer: _Standard disclaimer applies, blah blah blah; I don't own anything or anyone you recognize. Unless, of course, you recognize something or someone I do. No lawsuits or paperwork, please. _

Chapter Six: Why Your Subconscious Should Only Be Free When You Are Unconscious

"So, uh, that was nice..." Harry looked over at Ginny, whose face was flushed rather thoroughly, and prettily, he couldn't help thinking.

_Of course you can't help it. You're in **love **with her! _

_I am **not**. Get out of my head. _

_Make me. _

_Out. _

_Make me. _

_I said out! _

_And **I** said make me. _

_You know what? I'm going to ignore you. _

_Just try, Potter. _

_I will. _

_Sure you will. _

_Ignoring you now._

And with the most gargantuan effort he could muster, he did, turning his focus back to Ginny. "Can't remember the last time I'd done that..."

"You cant?" Ginny looked incredulously at him with wide, dark eyes. "It's not something that's hard to remember, Harry. I mean...its...well...its just not easy to forget."

"I'm not saying that it is...its just...its been a while," he admitted.

_Oh, **boy**, has it been a while. _

_Definitely. _

_Hey, look! We agree on something. _

_You mean you finally developed some common sense? _

_You couldn't have left it as it was, could you? We were happy, you had to ruin it. _

_Oh, Merlin, don't sound like such a girl! _

_I most certainly do **not** sound like a girl! _

_Wanna bet? A thousand Galleons say you act just like a girl sometimes. _

_I do not. _

_A thousand Galleons..._

_You don't have that kind of money. _

_Sure we do! _

_Ah, so it's from **my** bank account that you plan to use the money to gamble with me with? _

_What? _

_I'm not entirely sure I can repeat the whole thing. _

_I give up on you, Potter. I really really do. Sigh. You poor boy. Must be all the deprivation of any **fun** in your life whatsoever. _

_I have fun! Well, I used to... _Harry frowned a little, as he recalled out loud, telling Ginny. "The last time it was this wild was back in Hogwarts, well, when I was still there, you know? After that...I've been kind of busy, haven't exactly been able to strut around town looking for some fun. And not that much fun to be had around town, either. What with everyone either hiding or dying."

Ginny's face was sympathetic as she leaned over to rest her head on Harry's shoulder. _Ginny. On shoulder. Why should this make me slightly uncomfortable? _

_Because you're in love with her, how many damn times do I have to say this? _

_Temper, temper. And watch your language. _

_Oh, please, like** you** haven't come up with much worse. And. You. Are. In. Love. With. Ginny. Weasley. Will. You. Please. Admit it already! Before I hex you! _

_I'm **not** in love with her. That's why I'm uncomfortable with this, because I don't like her in that way so she shouldn't be doing this..._

_Well then, push her away. If you can. _

_I cant. She's my friend, and she's tired. I can't push her off. _

_Can't or wont? Admit it, you** like** having her rest on you. _

_Well, it is rather comfortable. _

_Huzzah. Minor progress from the nimwit. _

_Hey! _

_What? You are. _

_Then you are too! You're me,** remember**? _

_Oh. Damn. Fine. I take that back. _

_Ha ha. _

_But you're still in love with her. You just wont admit it, which is why its so awkward having her on your shoulder because you like that she's doing it but you don't think you do. _

_What? _

_I don't want to repeat that. And, hey, Ginny speaking now. Focus, dear lad. Focus._

"I guess...it was a little different for me, still being in school. I still got to have a little bit of _fun_, here and there." Ginny shrugged.

"And who exactly were you having all this _fun_ with, young lady?" He couldn't resist attempting to sound intimidating, but even before she snorted with laughter he knew he'd failed.

_Well, duh. Your idea of intimidating is, apparently, pulling a very sixties-television-dad voice. _

_How would you know what a sixties-television-dad's voice sounds like? You weren't around in the sixties! _

_Reruns? _

_We haven't watched any sixties TV. _

_Oh, right. Well, probably some basic stereotypes that have been put to mockery on modern television. _

_Ah, that sounds more likely._

"Please. You don't sound anything at all like Mum, don't even try." She paused.

Harry immediately began to think, an action he was seriously beginning to doubt the wisdom of.

_Well, yeah, thank Merlin I don't sound like Molly Weasley, that'd be quite a sight, wouldn't it? The Boy-Who-Lived sounding like the matriarch of the Weasley clan. 'Fred! George! Stay out of mischief!' _

_Nah, that's not really what'd she say...it'd probably be a little more like 'If I hear so much as one whisper about your causing any trouble at all, you two are in deep shit!' _

_Except that she wouldn't actually **say** 'shit' in front of anyone. _

_Right, right. _

_But the rest of it was pretty good, I think. So, it would be like 'Fred, George, if I so much as have a feeling that you two are wreaking havoc, you're punished sooner than you can say "degnome the garden"!' _

_Oh, that's much better. You're really getting it down, I think. _

_Really? You think? _

_Yeah, it's a good impersonation. _

_Wait a minute. _

_What? _

_Wasn't the point of this that we **don't ** want to sound like her? _

_Oh. **Oh**. Huh. How about that. _

_You're an idiot. _

_Shut up. _Harry's face took on a frown, while Ginny kept talking, not seeing the rather disgruntled expression on his face.

"And, its none of your business, but before he left, when Dean and I were dating, yeah, we used to do this quite a bit. And after your year left, well, I just got some of my friends."

_None of my business? What's that supposed to mean? _

_I think it means, none of your business. _

_Oh. Why the hell not? _

_Because it really isn't? _

_Oh. Wait a minute. She and Dean? _

_Things just sort of take their time making their way into your brain don't they? _

_What did she mean, she and Dean? Doing things together? What kind of things? _

_I believe, Einstein, the same sort of things you and the lovely Miss Weasley are partaking in right now. _

_What? She and Dean used to...they...but...she's so... _

_My, your coherency is really coming along. _

_Wait! She and Dean **and ** her friends? _

_I sense an apoplexy coming on. _

_Probably. She and Dean and her friends! _

_Down, boy. Stay calm. _

_**How ?** _

_**Breathe**. In, out. In, out... _

_Okay, okay. I'm better, I swear. _

_I hope so. _

_I am. I'll prove it. _

_**No**! I mean, no, no... I'll handle this one._

"I'm having quite a time trying to picture you, dear sweet quiet little Ginny Weasley, going wild and doing all this with a bunch of your friends."

_See? Not at all psychotic. Do you understand? _

_Yes... _

_That's a good lad. _

_You know, I rather resent being patronized. _

_But its so easy..._

_Grrr. _

_Did you just** growl** at me? _

_No. _

_Yes, you did! Heh heh. _

_Its not funny. _

_Yeah it is._

Ginny giggled. "Since when was I _ever _'dear sweet quiet little Ginny Weasley'? Especially to you, you've known me for ages!"

"Well, you seemed that way for quite a while. All cute and innocent. Even when you started growing up, and I knew you weren't really like that. You still just...seemed like it. There's something about you..." Harry suddenly broke off, laughing nervously. "God, I'm just...going on, aren't I? Rambling...you must think I'm going crazy."

_You are. _

_I am. _

_Oh, good, that's another thing we agree on. _

_Well, its your own fault. You just wont admit that you are in love with Ginny. _

_Because there's nothing to admit. _

_Oh, really? _

_Yes, really. _

_'There's something about you...', sound familiar? _

**_Shh._**

"Not at all," Ginny said quietly, giving him a shy smile. "I think it's sweet. One of the sweetest things anyone's ever said to me."

He was transfixed by her smile. Those lips...and her perfect teeth...and those amazing lips...and her lips...and... _why am I so fascinated with her lips? This is Ginny..._

_Oh, come on, Potter. You** know** why you're fixated on her lips... You want to kiss her. Be a man, go for it._

_I do not. I just think that..._ "You're absolutely beautiful, you know that, Gin?"

"Hmmm? What was that, Harry?" She had snuggled closer to him, burying her face in his arm. "Mmm. I'm getting sleepy. The buzz is starting to wear off, I think."

"I said..." He looked down at her, at the way she clung to him, the way her eyelids fluttered shut, the way her hair curled around her shoulders... "Nothing, really. Just rambling some more. You know me." _Yeah, you're a damn coward, that's what you are_. _And completely blind to your own emotions_.

_I'm choosing to take the high road and **ignore** you. _

_Suit yourself. I'll take the low road and mock the hell out of you. Much more fun. _

_Ignoring you. _

_Mocking! Mock, mock, mock._

"Oh," she mumbled, her voice was small and sleepy, and entirely endearing. "Okay. If you're sure."

"I'm sure. Rest if you want to."

_Yeah. Right. You told her she was absolutely beautiful, that's nothing, sure. You're **in love with her**, Potter. For Merlin's sake, just admit it! _

_First off, I'm ignoring you. Secondly, I'm not in love with her. I was just speaking the truth. Ginny **is** a beautiful girl. _

_Yeah, yeah. Then why do you feel so sad? _

_I'm not sad. Yes, you are. You're upset because you were hoping that she would have heard you and maybe, because **her** skull isn't as thick as yours, she would realize you're in love with her too and just kissed you senseless because God knows you cant stop thinking about kissing her. _

_That isn't true..._

Harry was beginning to feel the intoxication from the night's activities start to release its grip on him, and was starting to grow drowsy. However, he couldn't help but suddenly be acutely aware of Ginny curling up with him...her sweet fruity scent suddenly filling his senses...her long, black tresses gently tickling his skin...her warmth enveloping him as she pulled herself closer...nuzzling his arm...wrapping her arms around his torso...pressing her soft - _You know you want her, Potter. Are you ever going to admit it? _

_No, because it's not true. _

_Ugh. I give up. Its late, I'm worn out, I'm going to sleep and hopefully when you wake up you'll have learnt how to **use your brain!**_

His own mind yelling at himself was the last thing he heard, before he closed his eyes for a second, and opened them again to find himself...exactly where he was a minute ago. He was lying on the couch, with Ginny curled up to sleep, pressed against him. He found himself gently stroking her hair, pushing it away from her smooth, lightly tanned and very freckled skin. She stirred as he did, looking up at him with her wide eyes, heavy with sleep.

"Harry?" she murmured.

"Yeah," he replied softly, still stroking her hair. "It's me. Shh... go back to sleep," he told her as she tried to get up. She settled down again, and he kept on playing with her soft, silky hair. "I love you, Ginny," he whispered softly. He smiled as he saw a small smile form on the sleeping girl's lips, and his eyes started to drift shut again...

And then suddenly, she was kissing him passionately. He was holding onto her, cradling her head with one hand, encircling her waist with the other, as he crushed her mouth with his. Her lips were hot and pliant, her tongue was tangling with his, her hands were in his messy hair, on his neck, running down his back... He moaned softly and pulled her closer, delighting in the utter breathlessness with which she panted his name as his hands began to snake lower, feeling her warm, soft skin under him...

"Harry...oh...Harry..." She was beginning to get louder, calling his name out. "Harry...Harry!" It became louder, more passionate, more intense. "Harry! Harry!" Then it became...desperate. "Harry!" And then she screamed. And it was no longer of desire, it had turned into...anxiety? Fear?

And she was no longer there with him; he realized after the first few moans he had not seen her, only heard her...and now she was screaming, crying out for him. Why is she crying? His mind wondered, but there was no time to think of an answer as his head suddenly imploded in pain. A sharp, burning feeling shot through his nerves, stemming from...

His scar. He clutched his forehead, at the lightning-bolt mark there that felt like it was eating away at his skin, sending hot waves of blinding pain through his mind. It was unnerving, and he couldn't think straight, but he didn't need to. The pain could only mean one thing.

Voldemort.

* * *

AN: _First up, a big thank you to **lgobgirlie15**, **Chowie**, and the faithful **tiggieotoo**! You guys rock, and your reviews make me happy! A big cookie to each of you!_

AN: _Now, to address a couple of issues: I've altered how I format Harry's thoughts - they're now italicized and paragraphed to represent both voices in his head, and I'll probably edit the earlier chapters too. It was something I had considered earlier, I was just worried about one-line paragraphs. However, all of the flashbacks that they experience probably will not be divided, it was kind of a stylistic choice I had decided upon - keeping you all on your toes, constant vigilance and all! Hope its alright with everyone. Thanks!_ :)

AN: _Finally, you've obviously read, so review, please? It makes my day._


	7. Waking Up With The Enemy In Your Best Fr...

**Keep Your Enemies Closer**

by **juxtaposed**

The battles keep getting bigger, the losses more profound. When the ultimate loss happens, everything changes. Everyone changes. Harry and Ginny now find themselves dealing with an old friend - and a new enemy. But how do you defend yourself against someone who knows everything about you? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

_also_

Hermione reminisces. Harry has mental arguments. Ginny just has issues.

Disclaimer: _Standard disclaimer applies, blah blah blah, I don't own anything or anyone you recognize. Unless, of course, you recognize something or someone I do. No lawsuits or paperwork, please. _

Chapter Seven: Waking Up With The Enemy In Your Best Friend's Head

"Ginny...Ginny..."

Ginny stirred sleepily at the sound of her name being mumbled. "Hmm? Whatsit? I'm sleeping..." she muttered, about to bury her face back into her pillow when she suddenly realized it was the one talking. Except, of course, her pillow wasn't really a pillow. It was a boy. The Boy-Who-Lived. Her best friend. Harry. She started as Harry suddenly let out a moan and a cry. _My, my, I wonder what kind of dreams he's having_, she thought with a smirk, her cheeks flushing with the very idea of it. Then Harry called out her name again. _Okay, is he having those kind of dreams...about me? Or..._

"Voldemort," Harry hissed lowly. _Oh. Probably not those kind of dreams, then. Wait a minute. Did he say **Voldemort **?_

"Harry!" She grabbed at him and shook him slightly. "Harry, wake up! Harry!"

"Ow! Geroff, you bloody bast - Ginny?" Harry thrashed about for a second, pushing her away, then suddenly woke up and blinked at her. "Ginny!"

"Yes, I've been hearing that quite a bit." Ginny remarked dryly. Harry blinked again in confusion. "Never mind," she said, before he could ask. "Did you have a dream...or nightmare, rather, about Voldemort?"

"Yeah." Harry yawned. Midway, he paused, then closed his mouth as he turned to her. "Wait, how did you know?"

She rolled her eyes. "You were talking in your sleep."

A faint blush crept to his cheeks. Or was that just her imagination? He suddenly seemed a little nervous, too. Hmm. "Er, I...what did you hear me say?" he finally asked, after hemming and hawing and clearing his throat in many different manners. And yes, that was definitely a blush. So she wasn't imagining it after all. _Hmm_. She shrugged.

"Not much. You said my name a couple of times, then made some noises, then went 'Voldemort'. And then I woke you up."

"Oh. Thanks." Ginny waited. After a few minutes, Harry blinked at her. "What?" She just gave him a look. "What? Oh. You want me to talk about the dream? Well, er...not much. I didn't really see anything. I was just in the middle of a nice dream, then suddenly everything just started to hurt." With that, he yawned again. "Well, then. Good night."

"Harry!" She frowned chastisingly as Harry just grunted and firmly kept his eyes shut and his head turned away from her, very obviously signaling that he didn't want to pursue the topic any more, despite the fact that it ought to be pursued. And rather thoroughly, in fact, she thought. She let out a groan and rolled her eyes as she realized that Harry would not respond at all to her as long as she was thinking of asking him about his dream.

_How on Earth had Ron dealt with all this?_ she wondered. She was beginning to understand why Ron always seemed so frustrated with Harry when it came to his nightmares. After all, sharing a room with him for seven years, and having to listen to Harry insist he was fine when he obviously wasn't, but not being able to push the subject because then Harry would get all withdrawn and sullen...Ginny suddenly thought that perhaps, just perhaps, her brother had been _too_ patient with Harry. _That would be a first_, she thought sardonically. She was his sister, and had known him for sixteen years, and she had always had had to deal with Ron's infamous short fuse. She had been around when he had gone through his 'accidental magic' phase - unfortunately. With his temper, he had blown up countless lamps and bowls and, on one occasion, a very nice lemon trifle pudding. He had also set fire to his bed, the fireplace - ironically enough, and, on one occasion, George. And he had also floated - on countless occasions, she regretted remembering, Ginny herself. All completely unintentional, of course, but that didn't make it _un_happen.

She suddenly felt a deep, painful aching in her heart as she thought about Ron. She was stricken by how terribly much she really missed him. Like, _really_ missed him. Sure, intellectually, she had known for a while now. She had known for the past year that she missed him. And she had known that there was a huge void in her heart, her life, where Ron had always been. But this was the first time she really _knew_ it. This was the first time she felt in her heart how much she missed her brother. Missed the way he would laugh at the stupidest things. Missed the way he had always been so protective. Missed the way he turned into a complete bumbling prat whenever Hermione was around, but was still so clueless as to what it meant. Missed the way he used to try and keep things from her, only to eventually slip up and reveal everything to her. Missed the conversations that they used to have, in the middle of the night, when they couldn't sleep, and would talk about anything and everything.

It hadn't always been like that. When they were young, sure, they were really close and spent all their time running around the yard together, having prank wars with the twins. Then Ron had gone off to Hogwarts, and for a year, she was suddenly alone. She had missed Ron so badly, she remembered. Nothing like it was now, but still, she had missed him. When he left, she had gone to the station and seen Harry, who she had thought was just about the cutest guy she'd ever laid eyes on. And while he was at school, he had owled her a few times, and told her that things were crazy. She had always replied with ardent fervuor. But, slowly, he got busier and his owls became less frequent. And she had been quite sad, she remembered. She had wandered around the house, causing mischief on behalf of Fred and George, driving her mother insane. And then they had all come home. And she had been ecstatic; she had plagued Ron with questions all summer about his adventures with Harry and Hermione. And he had been eager to relate his exploits, and they seemed to be close again.

Then it had been her year to attend Hogwarts. All his time was spent with Harry and Hermione, and although they were always nice to her, it wasn't the same anymore. She was out of the loop, whenever the three of them decided to do anything. So she had turned to Tom Riddle, a very nice boy whose journal she had discovered. He had kept her company, he had listened to her, he had become a good friend and confidante, much like Ron had been when they were young. Sure, in the end he had grown up to become one of the cruelest, most evil beings in the wizarding world, but as a boy, he had been nice. Well, except for leading her down to the Chamber of Secrets to her death. _That was not such a nice thing for him to have done._ But then Harry had come and saved her, saved everyone, again. And Ron had been mortified at the fact that he had ignored her so badly that she had had to turn to a force of evil for companionship, and lavished attention - sometimes very much unappreciated - on her for the whole summer.

She didn't know what to expect for her second year, whether he would forget about her again when he was back in Hogwarts with Harry and Hermione. She didn't need him to spend every minute with her, obviously, but she just wanted him to pay a little attention to her sometimes, ask her how her life was. And of course, there was Harry, who she thought seemed to grow more handsome each passing year. But she knew it wasn't a good idea to pursue him, so she had declared herself "over" him halfway through the year, even if she never actually said it to him, and even if it wasn't all that true. Then there was Hermione, who, being the only girl among boys, understood being the only girl among boys, and therefore understood Ginny pretty well. She had eventually become somewhat of a sister and best friend to Ginny.

Slowly, over the years, as Voldemort's constant rise threatened Harry, she became embroiled in the whole shenanigan of facing evil, and living to tell the tale. She grew closer to Ron, Harry and Hermione, helping them in the battles they always managed to find themselves involved in, and as her powers grew stronger, taking part in the fights that went down. And with each passing year, she became a bigger and bigger part in the duel between good and evil, since as every year drew to a close, there would definitely be a big showdown.

_You'd think Voldemort would stop being so damned predictable_, she couldn't help thinking, rather sardonically. He might as well be telling Harry to lay back and take it easy until April rolls around, because that's really the only significant battle and all. _That's right, lad, don't fret till spring comes about_. She couldn't help giggling at the mental projection of Voldemort saying something so...paternal. Harry would faint in shock. Speaking of which...she suddenly realized that she had left Harry alone for a good ten minutes now, and to her, that was more than enough.

"Harry..." She nudged the raven-haired boy. Nothing. She harrumphed. "Harry, I know you're awake, I know you can hear me, and I know that you know that I'm pretty damn good with hexes, which I'm going to cast if you don't turn around, open your eyes and talk to me right _now_."

He let out an almighty groan and turned his head to face her. "What is it?" he growled sleepily.

"Tell me your dream," she said simply, as if offering him a cookie. All the while giving him her most innocent - and dangerous - look, complete with wide eyes and smile, even as he stared harshly at her, muttering under his breath about her being impossible. As an idea popped into her head, Ginny ignored him, waved her hand, and suddenly a small package appeared in front of her. She tore it open, and offered it to him with that same bright smile. "Cookie?"

He kept glowering even as he took a bite out of one. "You're impossible."

She smiled sweetly. "I know."

* * *

AN: _Hmm, I'm not all that pleased with this particular chapter - it ran away from me a little, and refused to be reined in completely. Oh well. You guys tell me what you think. Yes, you know what's coming - review, please? _

AN: _And as usual, a big thank you to my favorite reviewer, **tiggieotoo - **you asked some very good questions, sorry I cant answer all of them for you yet - it'd be a spoiler of sorts for my story - though I think you should have gotten a hint for the 'Ron' mystery in this chapter. And, obviously, Ginny's still well and good for now. Thanks for reviewing again, do ya want another cookie? Cause you and **dugong** both get one! _


	8. More Awkward Moments and Random Thoughts

**Keep Your Enemies Closer**

by **juxtaposed**

The battles keep getting bigger, the losses more profound. When the ultimate loss happens, everything changes. Everyone changes. Harry and Ginny now find themselves dealing with an old friend - and a new enemy. But how do you defend yourself against someone who knows everything about you? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

_also_

Hermione reminisces. Harry has mental arguments. Ginny just has issues.

Disclaimer: _Standard disclaimer applies, blah blah blah, I don't own anything or anyone you recognize. Unless, of course, you recognize something or someone I do. No lawsuits or paperwork, please. _

Chapter Eight: More Awkward Moments and Random Thoughts

It took eight cookies before Ginny finally realized that Harry was stuffing his mouth so he wouldn't have to speak. Rolling her eyes, she waved her hand and the cookies disappeared, save for the last half that was still in Harry's clutches. His eyes widened as he figured out that _she_ had figured out what he was doing, and he immediately slowed down his chewing, holding onto the last bit of cookie like it was a lifeline. Ginny noticed this and smirked at him with an arched brow.

"You have five minutes to finish that, then you are going to _start talking_."

Harry began to protest. "But -"

"But _nothing_. Merlin help me, Harry James Potter, if I have to tie you down, and force Veritaserum down your throat…I'll do it." Ginny fixed him with a look that said, in no uncertain terms, that she would definitely keep her word. He swallowed hard, wincing slightly at her expression.

"Okay," he squeaked out. He quickly finished off the last half of the cookie and cleared his throat. Then…silence. He looked down at his hands, brushing off imaginary remnants of cookie crumbs. Ginny watched him. He seemed to be thinking hard. For a while, she reflected on what Harry must be going through, and she immediately felt bad at how harsh she was being. _But then again_, she reminded herself, _if I don't push him, he'll never tell anyone about what's bothering him. All this bottling up of emotions cant possibly be good for him_. She didn't _like_ making Harry relive horrible memories and visions, but she knew he'd be a walking time bomb if he kept it all to himself, as he was very much prone to doing, with both the pent-up emotions and the likely explosion from it.

It was a few long minutes before she lightly touched his arm, and he lifted his eyes to gaze into hers. Instead of the intensely piercing stare they had shared earlier, this one was filled with a rush of bubbling, roiling emotions – she could see pain, confusion, anger, guilt, and oddly enough – desire. _Gods, I hope Harry isn't having **those** type of dreams involving Voldemort_. She couldn't help but shudder at the thought, despite the sheer ridiculousness of it all. Then she realized just how silly it was, and she stifled a giggle. Harry was giving her a very strange look now, and she sobered up. "Will you tell me?" she asked softly.

He regarded her for a little while, and she was briefly worried that he would refuse. But he swallowed again, and nodded slowly. "It was…I don't know. One minute I was having a perfectly -" He paused, a blush rising to his cheeks as he glanced at her. "I was having a nice dream, for once, then all of a sudden, he's there in my head. He was planning something."

Something about the way he turned red and looked at her unnerved Ginny a little, but the fact he just said that Voldemort was planning something kept her from dwelling on it. "Planning?"

He swallowed. "Yeah. Something big, I think. He was…pleased. But kind of…I don't know…evil." He flushed again. "I mean, I know he _is_ evil. But he was feeling…malicious. And seemed pretty happy about his plans. So I guess, whatever he's planning - "

"It isn't a party." She finished for him.

"Or it is to him," Harry said quietly. He shook his head. "I don't think I'll ever get it, how he can be so happy about causing so much pain."

"Well, not like I'm sympathizing with the evil bastard," Ginny quirked an eyebrow. "But maybe he had a hard life."

"Such language, Gin," he chastised teasingly. "And I doubt it was that hard. I mean, it's nothing compared to what I -" He suddenly seemed very aware that he was saying something he did not mean to, and paused abruptly. She observed this, and silently debated if she ought to call him on it. But Harry had started talking again. "It doesn't justify what he does, you know. His life couldn't have been _that_ tough, that he would turn evil and try to destroy all the reminders of his past."

"It's not like we don't know people who did just that," she reminded him, a note of sadness and bitterness in her voice. "And, well, again, not that I'm sympathizing, but I sort of knew – him. When he was young. All the things he went through."

"The diary." He said matter-of-factly, apparently avoiding the other point that she had brought up. But then again, she didn't blame him. It was sort of a sore and painful point for the both of them. "Still don't know why the ponce kept a diary."

She chuckled. "Its not a manly thing to do?"

He shook his head, a smile forming on his lips. "Nah. Real men don't talk about their feelings. Or haven't you heard the complaints of a million women around the world, and read the studies done in various magazines?" He flashed a grin then, which made her slightly dizzy. Still, she remained composed.

"I thought those were mostly found in women's magazines, Harry, so what exactly are you doing reading them?" She couldn't help teasing him.

"Its called getting into the female psyche. A tough job, but somebody's got to do it." He puffed out a bit in jest, and she giggled at his silliness.

"Always the hero, aren't you, Harry?"

His entire demeanour seemed to change with that one sentence. He immediately stopped smiling, his eyes darkened, and his whole body tensed up. "I'm _not_," he spat out. "A bloody hero."

She was rather taken aback by his sudden swing in temperament, and found herself slightly afraid of him, her best friend. Harry Potter, boy wonder of the wizarding world, saviour to the people. But he was more than that, she mused. He was also one of the most powerful wizards in history, the one Voldemort himself truly feared. She studied him carefully now, since she was rarely ever on this end of his temper. With the venom in his voice and cold steel in his gaze, she suddenly saw what his opponents in battle must see – a formidable man with an even more formidable temper. She knew now why he was so feared, and revered. Anyone stupid enough to cross his path when he was in this mood was surely asking for trouble. _Whoops_. _I had better placate him soon, _she realized.

"Harry, I was kidding," she said gently. He remained silent and still for a while. "Harry? Please don't be angry with me?" She tried to catch his gaze. "I didn't mean to…I just…I'm sorry. Don't be mad."

He looked in her general direction – but not directly at her, she noticed - and she could see his fury slowly dissipating. He scowled at her a little, then relaxed. "S'okay," he muttered. He still wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Hey," she said softly. Her hand, which had been resting on his arm the whole time, moved up to lightly graze his jawline, as she leaned in a little, tilting her head in another attempt to catch his eye. He started a bit, then turned his gaze onto her. She smiled at him warmly.

He stared at her for a while, then, after a long moment, curved his lips up into a smile of his own. He raised his hand up to meet hers, and gently entwined their fingers together, rather absent-mindedly. "I just hate being considered the hero, you know?" he said suddenly, almost conversationally. "I mean, I wouldn't mind, if it were for a good reason. But there isn't. A good reason, I mean. I…I've been one since I was a baby. I hadn't even done anything of my own merit, and all over the world, people looked to me like I'm God on Earth. Then I had to spend my teenage years battling an evil wizard, which made me even more of a bloody _hero_. And now…I don't know if I could ever be anyone – anything – else. I'd like to be, though. I…I don't know. I just wish…sometimes. I wish I could be _normal_." He let out a hollow laugh. "I guess not, though. Even when I fight my last fight with Voldemort, there'll only be two outcomes – either I die, a hero for trying; or I win, and become even more of a goddamned _hero_." He paused for a while, and glanced down at their entwined fingers. For a while Ginny thought that maybe he hadn't realized he was doing it, and half-expected him to drop her hand like a hot potato – curious phrase, that was – but he merely kept staring at it, absently stroking her thumb with his.

"You know, you're really hard to stay mad at." He spoke quietly; although she was already close, she had to lean in a little more to catch what he was saying, and then he was suddenly fixing her with one of his immensely intense gazes. She caught her breath at the suddenness, and couldn't help but be mesmerized by his brilliant emerald eyes, which shone and darkened as he talked, reflecting his emotions precisely. Right now it was a mixture of both, and despite Harry always being fairly easy to read, she found herself unable to decipher what he was thinking or feeling.

She swallowed hard – her throat seemed to have gone rather dry. "Am I, now?" she managed to get out.

He continued as if she hadn't said a word. "And, for some reason, you make me compelled to confess everything that I'm thinking and feeling." She simply blinked at him, and he gave her a half-smile, half-smirk, an expression that was at once infuriating and intoxicating, incensing and devastating. She was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to both smack him and kiss him senseless. He looked her over rather blatantly, as he shifted nearer to her. She was about to open her mouth to make a remark about that, but found that she couldn't.

"I wonder what it is about you…" And now he had moved even closer, his voice was a low murmur, and she felt thrills shoot up and down her spine, stopping at the pit of her tummy. Her nervous habit of licking her lips resurfaced. Her hand was still in his, she could tell, by the feel of his gentle grip that he was warm and strong, and also, now, he was less than a foot away…so close. So close she could feel the gentle tickle of his breath as he spoke…

"I wonder…"

* * *

AN: _I think I may have accidentally given away a little too much in the last chapter, sigh. I really meant to try to keep the little bit of suspense and mystery about Ron, because that's only really supposed to come in Chapter 10. Anyhoo, its out there now, sort of. But not officially, so **shh!**_

_Thanks to **tiggieotoo,** as always, and the dream-spilling will come about in a while. Some fluff gets in the way, hehe. And thank you to **PettigrewWillPay** – love the nick, I couldn't agree more – for reviewing! **Cookies** to both of you, and anyone else reading this story – please **review** for a cookie!_


	9. Of Mice, Men, and Glumbumbles

Keep Your Enemies Closer 

by **juxtaposed**

The battles keep getting bigger, the losses more profound. When the ultimate loss happens, everything changes. Everyone changes. Harry and Ginny now find themselves dealing with an old friend - and a new enemy. But how do you defend yourself against someone who knows everything about you? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

_also_

Hermione reminisces. Harry has mental arguments. Ginny just has issues.

Disclaimer: _Standard disclaimer applies, blah blah blah, I don't own anything or anyone you recognize. Unless, of course, you recognize something or someone I do. No lawsuits or paperwork, please._

Chapter Nine: Of Mice, Men, and Glumbumbles

"You're absolutely sure its safe." She quickly glanced around the room, then settling her gaze on him.

He nodded. "I placed all the wards myself," he told her, and that was reassurance enough. For all of Draco's cool arrogance, he really did have the substance to back it up, and Hermione found no need in questioning his abilities. "Took a while to ensure that this was absolutely unsullied, though. Malfoy manors do not often remain…_impartial_ to the cause," he continued, giving her a meaningful look.

She understood. In other words, until Draco had come around, the Malfoy family was very much one of high – and influential – political standing, which meant that many, many, _many_ under-the-table deals had been made, all borne witness by the house. And it being a building of magic, it would have been entirely too risky for there to have been too many contracts made in the same room. After all, who knew what might have transpired if knowledge of one agreement had made its way to another 'acquaintance'? So, obviously, they had built the manors to accommodate an infinite amount of rooms, but this led to another issue: knowing which rooms were already corrupt, and which weren't.

"I must admit I don't envy you for that process," she remarked wryly, and he, as expected, smirked.

"I find that I am enviable for many things, but on this occasion, I must concede. It was not a Quidditch match." The smirk remained on his face, and his eyes gleamed at her as he talked. "But, if I'm not being too _arrogant_, I daresay the effort was worth it. This room is damn near unbreachable."

Hermione knew he was right; she had felt the power in his extremely well-knit web of spells as she had entered the room. But she couldn't resist just ribbing the blonde wizard a little. "Well, then, I suppose it's a pity that you _are_ too arrogant."

In a reaction that would have been unthinkable before three years ago, Draco simply laughed her off. It was a pleasant sound, smooth and lilting but deep and rich, and Hermione found herself smiling at the blonde. She missed this, missed the easy conversation and trading knowing smiles.

She had developed quite a good relationship with him, after that incident, one that ran into friendship, in a path that she later learnt rather mirrored Harry and Draco's. She never knew what exactly it was that had occurred to turn the former enemies into tentative –but genuine – friends, but she knew it wasn't her place to ask, and for once, had squelched her inborn burning curiosity. She distracted herself from asking questions by focusing on her own relationship with the platinum-haired Slytherin.

It had been a couple of days after her parents' deaths. She was still numb with shock, with her temper flaring up every now and then, only rivaled by bouts of denial, but she still hadn't quite come to terms with her loss. She hadn't yet grieved, hadn't yet cried for them. She simply threw herself even deeper into her books, this time delving into books on the Dark Arts. Her being the top student in Hogwarts had had its advantages, she had, with very little trouble, received a pass to the Restricted Section, on the grounds of research. It had been there in the Library, then, that Draco Malfoy had approached her.

She had looked up at him with a mixture of wariness and curiosity. He had simply stood there, his features schooled in a cool, calm manner, but his silvery eyes had gleamed with meaning, as always. She never really _quite_ knew what it was that went through his mind, but she could always read certain things in his eyes that he meant to be read. "I'm glad you took heed," he had said simply.

She had nodded, slowly. She had understood what it was he had oh-so-subtly told her on that day – Voldemort was expecting her reaction, would have been waiting for her, would have caught her and killed her as well, after torturing her, not to mention she would have been bringing Harry and the others into the fray – and as much as she hated not being able to _do_ anything, she knew the importance of self-control in such situations, and had locked herself in her room, forcing her friends to agree to hex her if she made any move to leave. She didn't know why Draco had chosen to help, and at the time she had been rather affronted at his interference, but in retrospect, she was grateful. He had, after all, saved her from being killed.

"I suppose I owe you my life, Malfoy. Thank you," she had said sincerely.

He had stared at her for quite a while, then spoke quietly. "Draco."

She had blinked, before she realized it was an invitation to call him by his given name. She was flattered, of course, she knew the significance of being given permission to address a wizard – or witch – by their given name, and she also knew Draco especially did not give such acquiesces easily, and almost never to a Muggle-born. She had smiled warmly, one of the few times recently, and nodded again. "Thank you, Draco."

He had nodded back, curtly. He seemed to want to say something more, and Hermione waited for him to. After a long pause, he did. "I know it must have been hard to stay away, but I'm glad you had the strength and wisdom to. It would not have served any purpose to have you lost." He was rather serious saying this, but then his lips quirked up. "And I imagine he must have thrown quite a fit that you disrupted his carefully laid plan."

She gave him a fleeting smirk. "Well, the best laid plans…"

He had surprised her when he continued for her. "Of mice and men, often go awry." Off her look, he smirked. "What? You think I never learnt literature as a child? I'm a_ Malfoy_, Granger."

"Hermione," she had simply replied, returning his earlier gesture, and his smirk widened just a little into a sort-of smile. "I'm surprised that you deigned a Muggle book worthy of your time."

"A truly well-bred wizard learns of everything, regardless of however questionable the origin."

"Spoken like a true pureblooded wizard."

There had suddenly been a long pause between them.

"Hermione," he hesitated a little before using her name. "Despite whatever I have said to you in years past, you have given me little reason to think of you as anything less than my equal when it comes to ability. And while I might always bear a tendency in matters of blood and politics, I do not wish for it to be an issue between us, personally."

"Me neither, Draco. Dismiss my last comment as nothing more than a failed attempt at teasing you." Her lips curved up slightly.

He had smiled – not smirked - a little, then. "I'm not one to tease."

"So I'm learning."

Another silence had hung in the air, then Draco made to leave. "I should probably go." He pivoted, in a move reminiscent of Snape, then stopped and looked at her over his shoulder. "Oh, Hermione?" His voice betrayed that he was a little less than perfectly cool.

"Yes, Draco?" The feel of his name was still a little awkward, as was hearing her name from him.

His eyes had held her with a flash of regret and understanding. "I'm sorry." With that, he left, giving her one last casual nod.

"And Glumbumbles are nature's way of saying, hey, things could be worse!"

Hermione stared at Draco blankly. "Beg your pardon?" she asked, flushing slightly, embarrassed that she had been caught not paying attention to his words.

Draco smirked. "I said, Glumbumbles are nature's way of saying, hey, things could be worse!" Hermione fixed him with a look, and he chuckled. "Don't look so disgruntled. Before that, my dear, I simply asked if you would care for a drink before we begin our mystery discussion."

"Oh. Yes, please. Cabernet Sauvignon would be great."

"Cabernet Sauvignon? How terribly Muggle of you, Hermione."

"Yes, well, it'll help to take the edge off that atrocious pun you just dispensed."

"I shall ignore that, because it was _not_ a pun, but a rather clever double-entendre, if I do say so myself." Draco said in semi-haughtiness.

"And you do," Hermione smiled oh-so-sweetly at him, and he scowled briefly. Muttering something about impertinent Gryffindoresses, he waved his arm, and two glasses of the wine appeared before them. "Gryffindoresses?" she asked, very much amused. Ignoring her, he simply handed a glass to her, then picked the other one up. She rolled her eyes at him and held up her glass to him. "Oh alright. Shall we have a toast?"

Draco finally responded. "Ah, yes, a toast is in order, I agree. And what shall we toast?"

"Friends," Hermione said softly.

Draco nodded. "Friends it is." He gently clinked his glass against hers. "To friends!" he pronounced.

"To friends," she echoed. She smiled at him as she raised the glass to her lips. He returned it, and they sat that way for a while, simply sipping their wine in comfortable silence.

After a few minutes, Draco cleared his throat, and she looked at him expectantly, only to see him wearing a similar expression. "While this is undoubtedly delightful, I know that you had somewhat of an urgent mission when you sought me out, so may I suggest that we do not delay you, and we proceed with our discussion?"

"Of course." Hermione paused, and studied him. He gazed back at her completely unruffled. She found herself smiling again, knowing that her instinct had been right again, and with no small amount of certainty, stated simply, "I want your help." He raised his eyebrows at this, and waited for her to continue. She did.

"I would like to make a...business deal with you, Draco."

* * *

AN: _Dum dum dum...! And so endeth chapter nine! Which means that, yes, chapter ten is on its way, and there ought to be some nice little melodramatics in there. Oh, and if any of you are wondering about the supposed pun, look up what Glumbumbles do. (grin) Then behold my awful sense of humor._

_Now, for my usual over-happy, over-exuberant platitudes of grateful-ness - which I just realized ought to be gratitude - my command of the simple English language is obviously undergoing some serious detriment. Anyway, I have **two** whole new reviewers, which is, based on my **excellent** aptitude at mathematics, a whole two hundred percent more! I'm pathetic, I really am. But you guys who review, I love you all. You make me have happy little jigs around my chair. And I'm inclined to do the individual-response thing, which I'm normally atrocious at._

_So thanks, double-chocolate-chip cookies and never-dying gratitude to:   
**Zero Mind - **thank you thank you thank you! (big grin);  
**SAR -** "anxiously awaiting"? Gave me fuzzies. Thank you, and here you go!**;   
tiggieotoo - **LoL, thanks for keeping quiet about Ron, I promise not to keep you waiting too long...; and**   
PettigrewWillPay -** glad you like Harry and his inner voice :) and rest assured there will be more Harry-Ginny fluffiness on its way!**...   
**for being such wonderful people and reviewing!_

_You know whats coming now - **review** and make my day? Please?_


	10. The Sortof Revelation of The Major Plot ...

**Keep Your Enemies Closer**

by **juxtaposed**

The battles keep getting bigger, the losses more profound. When the ultimate loss happens, everything changes. Everyone changes. Harry and Ginny now find themselves dealing with an old friend - and a new enemy. But how do you defend yourself against someone who knows everything about you? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

_also_

Hermione reminisces. Harry has mental arguments. Ginny just has issues.

Disclaimer: _Standard disclaimer applies, blah blah blah, I don't own anything or anyone you recognize. Unless, of course, you recognize something or someone I do. No lawsuits or paperwork, please._

**Chapter Ten: The Sort-of Revelation of The Major Plot Turns**

"A business deal," he repeated slowly. He blinked. "What _kind_ of business are we talking about here?"

The look on her face gave him a pretty good idea, even as she said quietly, "What else?"

He regarded her for a long, quiet moment then sighed heavily. "Look, I don't know what I can do for you, Hermione. You know I've been trying to avoid that life for some time now."

"But you must miss it," she countered. "At least a small part of you does. Why else would you have agreed to meet with me after all this time?"

A flash of emotion crossed his face, but immediately his face reverted to the calm, cool Draco Malfoy expression of nonchalance. "You may be right," he acknowledged with a small chuckle. "You usually are, after all. But…" he trailed off, then shrugged uncertainly, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Hermione."

"I'm sorry…" Those two little words brought her spiraling back into her past, where, she noted with some chagrin, her mind had seemed determined to dwell lately. 

For a while, she had wondered what he was apologizing for. Then she realized he was offering his condolences, and she had found himself staring at his retreating back, briefly contemplating the curiosity that was Draco Malfoy. After a while, she conceded that she could no longer concentrate on her books; an odd feeling was starting to build up inside her, and she gathered her things before heading to the Gryffindor common room, where she found who she was looking for: Ron, Harry and Ginny.

Ron had looked up at her and given her that smile of his, the one that spoke volumes without him ever saying anything at all. It was tempered with his worry and sadness for her, but it was still pure, unadulterated love and friendship. That odd sensation inside her had grown stronger. She had sat down next to him, let him drape his arm over her, let him wrap her in a warm, comforting embrace.

He had kissed her temple gently, then said into her ear, softly, "Hey, love."

Love.

She had never felt love from anyone besides her family before. A familiar stir of anger threatened to overcome her, but was interrupted by a sudden flood of all sorts of emotions, and a stream of tears down her face.

That odd sensation was fading, slipping out through each sob that wracked her body, escaping through the wet trails down her face.

Her parents had loved her, and she had loved them. But now they were gone, and it just seemed to rip a hole right through to her core, tearing past her anger and disbelief. They were gone. For a while, all the love she had had with her parents threatened to turn into unmeasured hatred for Voldemort, threatened to consume her with a burning desire for nothing else but cold, bloody revenge. But Ron held her tight, and his gesture seemed to quell her fury. Ron was still there. And Harry, and Ginny…and they loved her. She knew they did. They were her best friends, and they loved her. And most importantly, _Ron_ loved her. Who knew if it was the same way she loved him, all it mattered was that Ron, the boy she felt so much for, was there, and he _loved_ her.

All it mattered was that he was there, stroking her hair tenderly, drawing her close to him, whispering soothing words into her ear. "It's alright, Hermione… Just let it out… I'm here for you, love."

"They're gone…I don't know how to…I don't want…I…they're gone…he…" Her words were punctuated with sobbing hiccups as she buried her face in his soft, warm robes, inhaling his scent, feeling his strong arms wrapped tight around her.

"Shh…it's okay, love…I'm here for you…"

A hand slipped into hers, and she sniffed as she looked at Harry, who squeezed her hand firmly and gave her a wan smile. She tried to smile through her tears, but Harry said softly, "Its okay. I understand."

Ginny's piercing blue eyes softened as they met hers and she felt gentle hands making light circles on the small of her back, helping to calm her a little. "We're all here for you, Hermione. We love you."

Her words sparked off another great heave of cries, but it felt a bit better, this time. Each sob peeled away the layers of hurt and pain, slicing at her grief and sorrow. So she let it all out, Ron becoming the vessel for her release, holding her as the minutes, then hours, went by.

God, she missed Ron…

She was suddenly very aware of Draco staring at her, studying her intently.

"You miss him, don't you." It was more a statement than anything else, said with Draco's usual tone of coolness and precision, and Hermione could only nod. His voice softened, as realization dawned on him. "And that's why you do what you're doing." He paused and regarded her, and when he spoke again, his tone was heavy. "I can't say I approve, but I do understand. I don't understand, however, why you want _me_ to help."

"Because," she said quietly, "You're the only one who can."

"I'm not sure if that was a compliment or not, but I'll take it as one."

Hermione merely gave him the smallest of smiles and a cough into her hand that sounded remarkably like "arrogance". Draco gave her a mock-scowl, and she chuckled before explaining herself. "You are neutral."

"Which is precisely why I'm confused that you seek my assistance. It's a well-known fact that I am against the Dark, but I do not necessarily support the Light. Everyone respects that and no one has tried to recruit me – well, they've tried, but usually once is more than enough for them."

"Exactly." Hermione seemed satisfied. Draco blinked, and gave her a look that expressed he thought she was crazy. "You see, Draco, that's what makes you perfect -"

"No, actually, its my dashing looks -"

He was cut off by Hermione as she continued, pointedly ignoring him. "For what I'm asking you to do. Firstly, the task I have in mind requires someone in your position. I need someone respected by both sides, and reputable for remaining neutral. Secondly, it will completely throw everyone off track. Third, you're one of the few people powerful, talented and sneaky enough to handle what I'm asking for."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, usually. But Hermione…" Draco sighed. "I'd like to help you, really. But I'm not quite ready to re-enter that life. I left it for a reason."

She looked like she was about to respond, but he held up his hand. "However, I count you among my very dear friends, and I promise you I'll think further about it. But you have to give me some time, and meanwhile, you can answer all my burning questions to give me more information to consider. Is that agreeable to you?"

She nodded, and waited for further comment, as he seemed to scrutinize her thoroughly. Satisfied that she was indeed of stable mind while discussing this, he leaned back into his chair.

"Well, here's something I'm wondering. I understand fair enough, why you don't want to ally yourself with Harry and company any longer -"

"Do you?"

"If I were to hazard a guess at part of the reason, I'd say you think it's too much of a risk to be around him. Either that, or you want to destroy Voldemort by yourself."

She gave him a wry smile. "You're way too observant for your own good, Draco. Much too perceptive, as well."

"It's a gift," he told her with a grin of sorts, before continuing. "So, you see, I have a fair idea of some of the reasons why you are choosing to undertake this by yourself. There are probably more than what meets the eye, but I suppose that is not of particular significance, and I get that. What I don't get, however, is why you are choosing to oppose people who are fighting the same fight you are."

Hermione fell silent, not meeting his eyes, causing the blonde to eye her curiously. "Hermione?"

"I can't help it." She whispered hoarsely.

"You can't help what?" Draco tried to speak as gently as he could, leaning in to hear Hermione better. There was another long pause, then she looked up at him with red-rimmed, but oddly hardened eyes.

"Fighting Harry."

"Well, you should've done it back in first year, would have saved me a lot of effort," Draco couldn't help teasing her, and was rewarded a wan smile. "I mean, you had to wait eight years before you learnt to hate him? Maybe you aren't as smart as you think you are."

"I don't hate him." She gave Draco a sardonic look. "And didn't _you _become friends with him?"

"Well, yes, but I hated him at the beginning, with the burning passion of a thousand fiery suns." Draco replied, rather blithely.

Hermione frowned. "I don't hate Harry, Draco." She sighed. "I don't hate him. I cant. We've been through so much together, too much…I can't hate him. But…I cant _not_… It's his fault. I can't help but blame him for what happened."

"You blame him for…that?" Draco tried to keep the surprise out of his voice.

"Yes," Hermione said, a flush of anger rising to her cheeks.

"He didn't deal the last…it wasn't his…" Draco hesitated, debating the wisdom of trying to reason with an irate Hermione. In the end he simply asked, "Why?"

Hermione took in a deep breath. "Because…_because_…" She shook with pent up emotion. "Because he stood there, and held me back, and didn't do a damn thing about it!"

"He _couldn't_ have, Hermione. You know it better than I do." Draco said, each word measured very carefully. He knew exactly how volatile the woman in front of him was. Sure enough, she suddenly burst.

"But it's not _fair!_ Why did it have to happen? Why him? Why _Ron?"_

* * *

AN: _Er, is this considered a cliffhanger too? Whoops. Well, extra cookies to all of you, to make up for it. And slices of my birthday cake when I get it. Yes, I'm not-so-subtly pointing out the fact that its my birthday tomorrow. (grin) Be nice to me and **review**?_

_And sorry for the long waits, life's been crazy and my muse is overworked - five WIPs! I do try to write as fast as possible, so please be patient with me! _:) _I do post statuses of my fics on my LJ, and I will accept threats and nudges to write over there as well. Feel free to mosey over and yell at me. _

_Lifetimes of happiness and the HP character of your choice, giftwrapped, (just shh and dont tell JKR!) go to: __**  
actionmaster** - Thank you!__**; brilliant-author16** - Yes, despite what this chapter might indicate, dont fret!Ron will come into the story, I promise; **PettigrewWillPay **- I havent forgotten this fic, RL's just been crazy lately. Hope you like this chapter, and here's an extra cookie to replace the stolen one _:)_**; **and __**Electra **- Thank you so much! I'm so happy that you like all my stories (really, I actually went "squee!", which is really embarassing), and thank you for the kudos bar and milk and cookies!_


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